


i found love (in a space lion)

by alphathorinrock



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Amnesia, Angst, Established Relationship, M/M, Memory Loss, Space Dad Shiro (Voltron), Space Mom Allura (Voltron), im sorry little galra boy, keith is hurting, non-binary Pidge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-09-26 11:12:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,169
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9893168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alphathorinrock/pseuds/alphathorinrock
Summary: He was awake. He didn't quite remember where he was, why he was in a glass egg, or what happened to his shoes, but he could remember the pain, sharp and clear and everywhere, and a voice, desperate and thin, telling him to stay.'Lance?'He looked at the boy to his right, squinting at his unfamiliar face and losing himself in his lilac eyes. He cleared his throat.'What in the quiznack is a Lance?'





	1. Chapter 1

He was awake. He didn't quite remember where he was, why he was in a glass egg, or what happened to his shoes, but he could remember the pain, sharp and clear and everywhere, and a voice, desperate and thin, telling him to stay.

 

'Lance?'

 

He looked at the boy to his right, squinting at his unfamiliar face and losing himself in his lilac eyes. He cleared his throat. 'What in the _quiznack_ is a Lance?'

 

    

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

Keith shoved his head between his knees, his world slowly fading in and out, as Pidge told him to breathe. They grabbed his neck, kneading the muscles slightly, but it only made him tense up more.

 

'He-he doesn't... Pidge... he d-doesn't _remember_...' He stammered, pulling on his hair as his chest heaved.

 

'It's gonna be fine, Keith, please, just breathe with me.'

 

Keith followed their example, breathing in and out as he tried to process the fact that his boyfriend, the love of his freaking life, had forgotten him.

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

It was him. He was a Lance.

 

That was a weird thing to realise.

 

He stared blankly at the pretty dude with weird hair and a scar across his nose, trying to take in what he was saying. It was hard, he kept getting distracted by the memory of those piercing lilac eyes, desperate and searching. It seemed like he should have more than a two second memory of them, like he had known these eyes his whole life, had shared so much of himself with the boy they belonged to, but his head was vague. It didn’t give him answers when he asked for them.

 

The pretty dude sighed, rubbing his robo arm (ok, what the _fuck_ ) as he dove into another level of conversation. _Shiro_. He said his name was Shiro. Lance had never heard that name before, and he was pretty sure (100% sure) that he would’ve remembered this guys pretty face and edgy hair. And the fact that he had a fucking _robo arm_. But he was as unfamiliar as the first boy he had woken to, and that disappointed Lance to say the least.

 

He did have a few memories. Ones that weren’t blurred or static, not many, just a handful. Sea spray, sea gulls and sea blue. He had no idea what the heck this Voltron thing was that scar-nose-weird-hair dude was talking about.

 

He missed his family.

 

He just wanted to go home.

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

Although it would kill him to admit it, Keith knew what he had to do. He knew he had to take Lance home. Earth was the only home Lance remembered, and Keith knew it was only right to take him back to where he knew people and where people knew him as just Lance, brilliant, insufferable Lance, and not the maniac blue paladin they all knew him as. Keith was sure that Earth was where Lance belonged, and he had to be the one to take him.

 

Standing at the end of the cot that Lance was in, Keith tried his best not to show that he was falling apart. They'd sedated Lance a while back. Restrained him too. He’d been awake for a few hours when he had begun to get violent. It was no surprise really; six strangers telling you that you're currently in a space castle orbiting a strange and far away planet and that you were a pilot of a flying blue space lion that joined with four other coloured space lions to form a giant space robot? Yeah, Keith could understand where Lance was coming from. It didn’t stop the hurt from seeping into his bones though. Keith was an idiot. He was an idiot and had forgotten that Lance didn't know him anymore. He was an idiot and had gotten a little too close to Lance, trying to soothe him, trying to stroke his gorgeous face. Lance lashed out and Coran sedated him and Keith was just a big dumb broken-hearted idiot…

 

What Lance needed  was to be home with familiar faces and comfortable places, and Keith…

 

 

…Keith needed to let him go.


	2. Chapter 2

_Sea spray, sea gulls and sea blue._

 

He remembered these things.

 

A soft breeze tickled his face as the caw of distant gulls drew him to the surface of lucidity. Lance opened his eyes and breathed. He recognised the softness of the bed that he was in, and savoured how the pillow gently cradled his head. The room he was in was even more familiar, with its pale blue walls scattered with Polaroid’s of faces that he knew, people that he loved; his family. There was his beloved posters too, dioramas of space and satellites. This was his room. Lance smiled as the static in his brain eased.

 

The night before was a mess of half formed memories and wild dreams. He remembered strange people telling him that he was in space, kicking ass and fighting bad guys. He remembered a pretty boy with violet skin and infinite lilac eyes, calling his name, telling him that he loved him, that he always would. He remembered giant robots and princesses and aliens and druids and the feeling of antigravity. But none of it made sense; they were only dreams.

 

He knew his name, he knew the bed that he was in, and his shoes were safe and sound, still laced, on his feet. There was still a voice, still pleading. It haunted him, but he could shut it out, reducing its volume to an inaudible whisper.

 

Lance had no recollection of how he had gotten here, but he knew one thing; this was home.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Keith rolled onto his back, sighing with frustration. His bed wasn't the same without Lance's heat, Lance's smell, Lance's arms holding him, Lance’s lips kissing his bare skin in the middle of the night.

 

It'd been three weeks since Keith dropped Lance back off at Earth. He’d tucked him into his own bed, in his own house, as if he had never left.

 

(as if he hadn't been missing for the past three years)

 

By the time he had gotten Lance settled, it was almost sunrise, so Keith stayed just long enough to see Lance wake. He waited for his family to find him and watched as Lance hugged every single one of them. It was long enough for tears to well in his eyes, long enough for Keith to realise that he would never touch the other half of his soul again.

 

Turning back onto his stomach, Keith buried his face into Lance’s pillow and willed himself to sleep. He ignored the ache in his body, ignored the pangs in his heart. It was almost as if, with Lance gone, Keith was missing a limb. They all were, now that the blue lion no longer had a paladin.

 

Keith had hidden her again, back on Earth, just in case.

 

 _Wishful thinking_ , the little voice in his head told him, but Keith didn't care.

 

He was numb.

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was a beautiful spring day and the sky was a particularly vibrant shade of blue. It faded almost to lavender at the horizon, and Lance felt odd as the memory of the pretty boy with the lilac eyes flashed in his mind. Shaking the cobwebs from his head, Lance watched his toes disappear below the surface of the sand.

 

He sat on the beach, watching his little sister run through the waves. This was his favourite place in the world. He could never forget this place. It’d been four months since he’d returned, and he still felt a little wobbly when he thought of home. His brain was still static; it refused to show him mercy, refused to reveal the past that he was missing. The water brushed his feet and Lance smiled as his sister laughed, squealing while she kicked sand at his older brother.

 

They were his favourite people, and this beach was his favourite place. But…

 

… but sometimes, when Lance thought about it too hard, a voice, deep inside his head, would tell him that he was wrong. It would tell him that there was somewhere else, a long, long way away from here that was better and felt more like home than this place did.

 

He tried not to think too hard about it.

 

He didn't particularly like that voice.

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Before sending him back, Allura had given Lance a memory blocker. If news of the Galra and Voltron spread, chaos would follow, and if they could save one planet in the entire universe, it would be Earth. (For Keith, it would always be Lance). The humans didn’t need to know about Zarkon. Not yet. There were already Galra there, otherwise Keith wouldn’t exist, but the war was nearly over; so Earth would remain oblivious for now.

 

The princess sent the paladins on monthly recon missions to Earth. The main objective was to check on Lance, make sure that he hadn't remembered anything, and that their blue paladin was safe, settling back into his old life.

 

Keith could never go; it hurt too much. The sensation of phantom limb that he'd get with even a thought of Lance was enough to make Keith cry. He was doing enough to keep himself busy. Training until his limbs ached and his brain dragged him under the heavy curtain of exhaustion. It was enough for him, knowing that Lance was happy, whole, with his family. It was enough.

 

His team mates were the best when it came to checking up on Lance. They would use their helmets to film him. Running on the beach, babysitting his niece and nephew, dancing with his Mama, working in a local café. They would all sit together in the common room and watch the new footage. It had become their monthly movie night.

 

It had been six months since they took Lance back to Earth. The summer sun had turned his skin a darker golden, and Lance must have been training hard with his brothers, because Keith could not remember his biceps being that big. Keith’s heart twisted as he watched Lance on the screen, chasing his youngest sister through the sprinklers in the front yard. He would scoop her up in his ridiculously long arms and blow raspberries in the crook of her neck, smiling blindingly and laughing without a care in the world. He had to look away when Lance served good a looking boy at the café; jealousy rippling through his nerve endings. Lance would always smile and wink at everyone, unfailingly making his customers blush, and Keith ached with how much he missed his best friend.

 

He looked at peace, at home; Keith could not have asked for more. He’d sit between Hunk and Shiro on their couch, with Pidge fiddling with tech at their feet, and the princess nodding and muttering something to Coran about how well Lance was doing. It always went like this, every month. Everyone would comment on how happy Lance was, how healthy and whole he looked. And Keith would always smile and nod and pretend he wasn't dead on the inside.


	3. Chapter 3

Whenever he was asked about it, Lance always replied in the same way; he didn't remember.

 

He didn't remember where he’d been for the past three years, who he was with or why he couldn't remember. He just woke up in his room one morning with a massive hole in his life (and in his heart, _thank you_ little voice in his head).

 

He wanted to remember, he really did, but no matter how hard he tried, nothing came back. His brain was static and uncooperative, only giving up half melted fantasies and fever crazed hallucinations.

 

He had multiple scars on his body that he couldn't explain; he’d stand before the foggy mirror in the bathroom, feeling the raised surface of his skin, tracing the length of every blemish. He’d shiver at the obscure feeling of pain, searing, red-hot pain, and scream at his brain to _remember._ It never worked. The hardest thing to explain, though, was the ache in his heart. He’d never had a significant other, and he never could quite find anything that could sooth the underlying agony. Not on Earth anyway.

 

But he'd never _left_ Earth... had he? Even though he dreamed of space, of intergalactic travel, of piloting a spaceship and flirting with aliens, he hadn’t finished his garrison training. He had never left the atmosphere, never breathed the stale tang of bottled oxygen or felt the sluggish pull of artificial gravity. So why did he have a weird feeling that he _had_?

 

He felt homesick, even though he was home. It felt odd when his Mama hugged him. And when his Papa shook his hand, he couldn't help but think that it should have been mechanical. His whole family was living under the same roof, but he still found himself looking for people. Looking for his them. Looking for his _family_ , even though the family he knew was right in front of him.

 

His brain was literally scrambled; he could barely hold a coherent thought on most days. It felt like he was missing a vital part of his body, a chunk, a smidge. He certainly didn't feel the same.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

In hindsight, Keith probably should have sent Lance’s jacket back to Earth with him, but he had selfishly kept it, and constantly wore it. It was the closest thing he had to the feeling of Lance’s arms around him, and it kept him warm in the cold vacuum of space.

 

Hunk had asked him once why he had kept it. Keith shrugged and tried to hide his pain, but Hunk knew. He pulled Keith into a bone-breaking hug, muttering ‘I miss him too’ into his hair.

 

Everyone felt the hole that Lance’s absence had left, but no one felt it more than Keith. He pulled Lance’s jacket tighter around him, trying to forget the look on Lance’s face when he had first woken, wide eyed and confused, not knowing who any of them were. He jammed his hands in the jacket pockets and tried to forget that it was all Keith’s fault that Lance would never remember them.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He was eating breakfast one morning when a thought passed through his mind. It startled him so much that he paused, stuck still, with his toast halfway to his mouth.

 

‘Mama, I think Lance is broken.’ His younger sister Eddie said, flicking him on the ear.

 

He looked at her then, narrowing his eyes in confusion. ‘Ed, how’s Hunk?’ he said.

 

She looked taken aback at first, and cast her eyes down to the table before looking at their Mama. Lance didn’t see the worried look that they shared, distracted by one of his brothers stealing his toast.

 

‘Cal, give your little brother back his breakfast.’ She said.

 

Neither his Mama or his sister answered his question.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

  


 

It took Keith getting hurt _again_ during a mission for Shiro to have A Talk with him.

 

Keith had been in the infirmary a grand total of seventeen times since Lance left. Most of them were frostbite treatments. Apparently you really did need your space suit if you wanted to leave your lion, even if you were half Galra and had a death wish a mile wide.

 

At least this time, though, it was only a blast wound. His suit had taken most of the damage, but he still managed to have an inch long gash on his flank. Allura refused to use a healing pod to treat it. She bandaged it the human way, forcing Keith to heal normally.

 

‘Maybe then you’ll have more respect for pain. And preserving your body.’ She’d told him sternly, patting his hand and giving him a look that radiated authority, with a hint of concern at its edges.

 

Keith was settling in for the night, high on Altean pain killers and drowsy with exhaustion, when Shiro burst into his room. He grabbed Keith buy the arms and yanked him to his feet, holding him at eye level, Keith’s toes barely brushing the ground. Shiro didn’t even look perturbed by the exertion, but he shook with rage. His face was flushed a light scarlet, making his scar stand out bright across his nose. Keith was stunned; he couldn’t move, mouth agape, as Shiro silently fumed.

 

‘This self destructive bullshit has got to stop.’ He said, with the tone of a leader.

 

That sobered Keith quickly. He schooled his expression, clearing his throat before saying ‘I have no clue what you’re talking about.’

 

Shiro dropped him. Keith did his best to stay on his feet, only swaying slightly, his head swimming with the drugs flowing through his veins. With his human hand, Shiro pressed his thumb to the centre of Keith’s bandage, digging in just enough for it to burn. Keith grit his teeth, sucking air into his mouth as he batted Shiro’s arm away. ‘What the _fuck_ , man?’ he said, scowling up at Shiro, squaring his shoulders in challenge.

 

‘Is that clue enough? Hmm? Give you a slight idea?’ Somehow, Shiro’s face managed to flush deeper, venom seeping into his voice, ‘you have responsibilities, Keith! To yourself! To your _team!’_ some of the fight dropped out of Shiro. He placed his hands on his hips, blowing out a noisy breath, ‘you’re not the only one who lost someone.’ It was barely audible, but Keith felt it, more than he heard it.

 

The breath knocked out of him as quickly as it had come. Tears stung the back of his eyes. He knew that he was being immature, stupid, _reckless_ , but he hadn’t cared. The less he had to think about himself, the less his broken heart twinged. What he hadn’t thought of was to ask the others how they were, or ask them for help. He was so used to being alone, and then he had Lance to do all the talking for him, that he reverted back to silently dealing with his emotions. Instead of healing, he took out all his frustrations during training and battles. It didn’t really occur to him that, while _he_ didn’t mind if he got hurt, other people might have. Other people that really cared about him, people that called him family.

 

Keith pushed his knuckles into his eyes, letting the tears bleed into his skin. ‘I’m sorry, Shiro. I just didn’t really think…’

 

‘No, you really didn’t think,’ Shiro said, cutting him off. He sighed, running a hand down his face, his colour slowly fading back to normal, ‘you should go see him. I think it would do you good.’

 

Sitting on his bed, Keith began to openly weep. He wanted to refuse; his broken heart was still raw, still bleeding. He knew Lance was safe and happy. He knew Lance was home. The guilt ate Keith away at night, but maybe Shiro was right. Maybe Keith just needed to see him, just once, as closure. Shiro sat down next to him, slinging an arm around Keith’s shoulder as he wiped away some of his tears. ‘I think, for once,’ Keith began, nestling his throbbing head into the crook of Shiro’s shoulder, ‘I may just do as you say.’


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im still infinitely sorry. but even more so after this update. its only a short chapter, but i /promise you/ that the next chapter is just gonna be a big juicy potato. that doesn't make sense... but yes. the next chapter will be getting somewhere. ok. thank you for your time! and kudos! please enjoy :)

Lance was rummaging through his wardrobe, looking for his favourite jacket. He had already searched the laundry basket, his two older brothers wardrobes, his two younger sisters wardrobes, his papas wardrobe, his sister-in-laws wardrobe, his niece and nephews dressers, and their coat closet. No dice.

 

He couldn’t find it.

 

It was the turn of season, winter fast approaching, and Lance just wanted to wear his goddamn favourite jacket to keep goddamn the chill off. But no matter how hard he searched, he couldn’t locate it. When his Mama walked through the door, home from work, he virtually attacked her.

 

‘Mama, where’s my jacket?’

 

She looked at him with surprise, pushing past him to put her things on the kitchen table. ‘Lance, my favourite son, I’ve been slaving away all day at work to put food on this table and I don’t even get a hello?’

 

Lance let out a sigh, rolling his eyes as he rushed over to give her a kiss and hug. ‘Hi Mama, how was work? Do you know where my jacket is?’

 

His Mama chuckled. ‘Work was fine, thank you, pumpkin. Your coat is hanging in the coat closet where it is supposed to be.’

 

‘No Mama, not my coat, my jacket. The green one, with the hood, and the yellow bands on the arms. Y’know, my favourite one?’

 

His Mama’s face became shuttered. She frowned at her hands, clearly struggling to form the words she wanted to speak. Lance placed his hands atop hers, squeezing gently as his Mama cleared her throat. ‘Pumpkin,’ she began, voice only slightly wavering, ‘that jacket, you were wearing it when you went missing.’

 

Lance snatched his hands back like he had been burned. His favourite jacket, gone, like all his memories. He’d never been mad at his own brain like this before, screaming internally as his mind kept drawing blanks. On the outside, he was sure to remain calm, trying not to freak out his Mama. He tried to swallow the lump in his throat, ignoring the sting in his eyes. ‘I see,’ he said, kissing his mother on the cheek once more, ‘thank you, Mama.’

 

He turned to walk back to his room, and pretended not to hear his mother calling him as his brain began to break down.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It had been a couple months since Keith’s last stint in the infirmary. His behaviour during missions was exceptional; he was acting as part of the team again, and not a dispensable wreck, and Shiro was more than considerably happy about it. He wasn’t, however, happy with how _different_ Keith had been acting lately.

 

Keith usually spent a lot of time alone, either training or reading or building his bond with Red, and he spent a lot of time with Pidge, arguing about the finer details of conspiracy theories. Every now and then, he’d be in the kitchen with Hunk, or helping Allura with Galra issues. He very rarely spent time with Shiro, not since Lance, and he almost never voluntarily spent time with Coran. But that was exactly what he was doing of late. A lot.

 

From what he could ascertain, Coran was helping Keith with some research. In a roundabout way, Coran told Shiro that Keith was looking into ways to stimulate the return of lost memories. Radio waves, visual stimuli, low level radiation. The list of things they’d come up with was growing more and more each day. Shiro wasn’t mad, per se, he was merely concerned. Keith was like a little brother to him; it was his job to protect him, to protect all of them. But he knew how much of a hole there was in the team with Lance’s absence. He could only imagine how hollow Keith felt; if it was Shiro in that  same situation, and something had happened to the princess, he would tear himself in two to try and fix it.

 

So he understood.

 

He knew that Keith blamed himself for everything that had happened, but he didn’t want to argue with him about it, not today.

 

Shiro let Keith do his research, hoping it would help bring him the closure he needed. He still had hope for Lance; Shiro knew himself how many memories he had gotten back since being kidnapped by the Galra. Not all of them were pleasant, though, and that was exactly why he kept his mouth shut and let Keith do his own thing.

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

The dreams became more vivid.

 

They felt more real than before, more like fractured recollections than actual dreams.

 

Flying through space in a giant blue spaceship.

Falling asleep in the warm sunlight on the outskirts of the Milky Way, his head cradled in someone’s lap.

Being watched by lilac eyes, awestruck by their depth.

Fighting big, purple, bat-like aliens.

 

Each new dream felt more and more real, and it was driving Lance mad. The voice called to him, in the land between asleep and awake, it told him that it was sorry, that it loved him, that it messed up and that he was going to be okay.

 

That confused Lance even more. Lance was fine, a little sleep deprived, but whole and hale.

 

It was frustrating to say the least.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok i'm not gonna lie, i had terrible writers block when i was trying to write lance's pov, so if this is seems forced and is absolutely terrible, i'm sorry. i'm a very apologetic potato at the moment. it might take me a while to update the next chapter too, so sorry in advance!
> 
> thanks for the kudos and comments!! 
> 
> happy reading :) <3

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He’d been trying to find a way to bring Lance home. The memory blocker was reversible, Keith had learnt that much, but it was no guarantee that the rest of Lance’s memories would return. And Keith wasn’t sure if he wanted Lance to remember everything.

 

(his screams still haunted Keith at night, the acrid stench of burning flesh, and the blood, so much blood, _Lance’s_ blood…)

 

They’d found useful information, but it wasn’t enough. Keith was frustrated by how much of a brick wall he had hit. All his research was coming up dud. Dejected and forlorn, Keith made a decision. It had been more than a year, the months long and lonely, and Keith just needed to see him again. To know that he was real and that he was safe and that he was happy.

(without him)

So when the time came for a paladin to check on Lance, Keith volunteered. Allura was confused at first, and not too keen to let him carry out the task, but after some gentle persuasion from Shiro, Keith and Red were en route to Earth.

 

Keith almost turned around a half a dozen times, nerves eating him up, flashbacks making the journey difficult, but he knew the good outweighed the bad. He knew that watching him from afar wouldn’t be enough. If Keith could just be close to Lance, as close as he could get, it would soothe Keith’s aching heart enough to let him sleep at night.

 

That’s why, after he’d settled Red in a well hidden location, after his body had adjusted to the atmosphere, he walked. He walked and walked. Each step brought him closer to the other half of his heart.

 

He was tired by the time he took a seat at the small café, but the weariness seeped from his bones the moment he saw him, perched on a barstool behind the counter, idly swinging his long legs back and fourth. Keith smiled, his heart giving a muted thud.

 

Lance looked _good._

This summer was just as kind to him as the first, his skin bronzed and glowing, contrasting his cerulean eyes beautifully. His body had slowed in its upward stretch, and had begun to fill in instead. Thick bands of muscle circled his arms and legs and Keith’s mouth watered as he drank in the sight. That’s when Lance noticed him, and Keith panicked, assuming a nonchalant pose as Lance stood.

 

He tried not to be disappointed when a small, blonde haired boy walked up to take his order instead. It was probably for the best; Lance was settled, he didn’t need Keith here messing that up for him.

 

Ordering black coffee and raison toast, Keith slouched in his seat and patted his chest. The gaping hole in his heart was beginning to scar. It would never heal properly, he would never move on, could never love another, but at least it wouldn’t hurt as bad, if he could see Lance like this, every now and again.

 

It was the first time in a very long time that Keith wanted to keep his life.

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lance was struck by sudden familiarity. It hit him so hard, it was almost like vertigo.

 

Sitting at one of the small tables was a strikingly gorgeous boy, with skin so pale it was almost a translucent purple, a vivid contrast to his lopsided black mullet, plain black shirt and pants, and hipster red jacket.

 

Lance stood from the stool behind the counter to wait on him, but Charlie had already beaten him to it. He could hear the boy’s voice, low and soft and so familiar, from where he was sitting. As he turned to make the dude’s drink, his mind wandered. Lance had heard that voice somewhere before; in his dreams maybe? In his past? He wasn’t sure. It was an odd feeling of empty recognition.

 

Buttering the raison toast and placing it next to the coffee on the counter, Lance rang the bell for Charlie to collect the order. He gnawed on his lip as he watched Charlie and the boy interact, trying to get past the firewalls in his brain to work out where he knew him from. But the boy was an enigma to him, a phantom. At least to this brain, the one that knew everything but never gave Lance a clue.

 

Curiosity got the better of him when Charlie returned with the boy’s plate and mug after he’d finished his meal and paid. As soon as beautiful mullet boy walked out of the café, Lance dragged Charlie behind the counter and sat him on the stool. He yelped, almost dropping the mug and his tip.

 

Gripping him by the upper arms, Lance took a deep breath and steeled his voice. ‘I need you to tell me the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, do you understand?’ Charlie’s brow crinkled, but he nodded nonetheless, ‘good. Now, has that dude ever stepped foot in this café before?’

 

Charlie’s eyes flashed with something; jealousy maybe? Lance wasn’t sure. He watched as he tucked the couple dollar tip he had received in his apron pocket. ‘That’s the first time I’ve seen him,’ he said, wiping imaginary dust from his jean-shorts, ‘he said he was a drifter, just passing through. It’s a shame really, wouldn’t mind spending some time with him.’ He said with a devilish wink.

 

Lance fought down the bitter wave of possessiveness he felt, not quite sure why his body was trying to claim a stranger as his own.

 

He was more confused than ever.

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It wasn’t really part of his plan, sort of a half crazed afterthought actually, but Keith just wanted Lance to have something familiar, something that he had had when he was still with Keith.

 

Lance’s jacket was tucked safely in the rucksack he had strapped to his back as he walked through the lazy coastal streets. The original plan was to return it when Lance was at work, but after Keith had finished at the café, he had come to the McClain residence to find it annoyingly occupied. Lance’s eldest brother, Lu, and his wife, were playing with their children in the front yard. Lance’s other brother, Cal, was chasing Lance’s youngest sister around the living room. Keith could hear their dad somewhere in the house, yelling at them not to break things.

 

Standing just beyond the front gate, Keith watched Lance’s family. He wasn’t too dejected at the fact that the house wasn’t empty; the princess had given him a full twenty-six vargas to complete his mission, he still had time. After watching them for a few hundred ticks, Keith could see why Lance had missed his family so much. Even though Keith had never met them, he felt like he knew them. Lance had told him everything there was to know about his siblings, his family; they were an extension of him, and, by bond, an extension of Keith too. At least, they used to be.

 

He’d have to return after nightfall, he decided, when the house was sleeping, and he could sneak in and out. Keith nodded, smiling to himself as he turned to leave, almost falling flat on his ass when he knocked into a solid chest and broad limbs. Hands shot out to grab him before he could fall, and electricity shot through Keith’s veins. He made sure to keep his eyes down, his head turned away as he muttered an apology and he hurriedly brushed the hands off, fleeing up the street. His heart beat a ragged crescendo, his feet slapping against the pavement. He only allowed himself to turn once, but it was enough to catch a glimpse of a stunned Lance, his mouth agape, his hands outstretched as if trying to catch Keith, his sister tugging at his sleeve.

 

That was _too_ close. But the scar tissue on Keith’s healing heart flared up, glowing red hot. Lance’s touch always affected Keith like this; like he was a drug addict and Lance was the hit he needed.

 

He was grateful for it, no matter how accidental and brief it was. It was enough.

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Stuck frozen on the sidewalk out the front of his house, Lance tried his best to make his limbs move. His brain was trying to catch up with what had just happened, but all he knew was that he had caught a glimpse of lilac eyes and his heart had dropped. The familiarity was back again in full force, déjà vu making his head swim as he tried to differentiate reality from his subconscious. Eddie was tugging at his sleeve, asking him questions, trying to get him to move, but his body wouldn’t respond. He would’ve recognised that mullet anywhere, but he felt like he _knew_ that boy, and not just from the café earlier that day, but from before… all of _this._

 

His feet dragged against the ground as he stumbled in a daze, half propped up against Eddie’s shoulder as she hauled him inside the house. She managed to get him to the living room, with Lu’s help, and dropped him on the lounge. Despite the summer heat, Eddie wrapped a blanket around his shoulders, patting him on the cheek before she disappeared from his field of vision. He could hear her talking to their brothers, concern leaching into her tone, as she pottered around the kitchen. In the hind-part of his brain, Lance knew that all three of them were worried about him. Worried about losing him again, but he wasn’t going anywhere. He couldn’t remember where he’d been to go back there, anyway.

 

Eddie returned to sit next to him, wrapping his fingers around a steaming mug of cocoa, telling him to drink up with a tight smile. She curled into his side as he sipped on his beverage, tucking her arm through his as Lance sighed. Eddie’d always done this for Lance; looked after him. He forgot, sometimes, that she was three years younger than him. They’d always been the closest siblings in the family. She was Lance’s confidant. He told her everything; she was the first person Lance told when he worked out he was bi, the first to know that he’d enrolled at the garrison, the first person he’d really missed when he was orbiting unfamiliar planets in space.

 

…but Lance had _never been in space_.

 

His brain remained stubbornly silent, not slipping up again, swimming with the image of lilac eyes and the feeling of electricity at beautiful mullet boy’s touch.

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Breaking into the house wasn’t the hard part. The hard part was sneaking past the sleeping McClain family, and their very large, scary looking dog. The _hardest_ part was seeing Lance and knowing that he couldn’t wake him, that he couldn’t touch him, couldn’t crawl into the bed next to him, cradle him in his arms, and sleep for the next forty thousand years.

 

Traipsing to the other side of his room, Keith pulled a coat hanger from Lance’s closet, silently hanging his jacket on it and placing it where it belonged. He made his way over to Lance’s bed, cursing himself when a floorboard betrayed him, letting out a ghastly squeal. Lance snuffled, tossing his limbs every which-way as he rolled onto his back. Keith stifled a laugh; he’d missed being smacked in the face in the wee hours of the night by one of Lance’s errant hands.

 

Sitting on the stool beside Lance’s bed, Keith shook his head, his hair falling in his eyes as he watched the subtle shift of Lance’s eyelids. He chuckled to himself. 'I miss you. I miss you and your stupid octopus limbs,' he mumbled, 'I miss your terrible sense of humour and your horrible jokes; the puns, especially. _God_ , I miss your _laugh_...' Keith hiccupped.

 

Here he was, sitting next to Lance, the only person he would ever love with the entirety of his being, and he was talking about him as if he was dead. He didn't wipe away the tears as they rolled down his cheeks, rivulets of salty water, leaking from the depths of him.

 

'I just miss you, baby. I wish you could come home. I wish you would _remember_ us. And I'm really sorry; this was my entire fault.'

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

  

 

Lance was sure he hadn't dreamt it.

 

The voice.

 

He _knew_ that voice.

 

It was the same voice that had spoken to him every day from the moment he had woken in his room, missing three years of memories and half his heart. But this time, that sweet, low, soft voice wasn’t a faint whisper, it was real. A real, tangible thing.

 

And it hurt him, to hear the agony in that voice, as it begged him for forgiveness. Hurt like a stab to the heart, but he couldn’t remember enough to know _why_.

 

He wiped the sleep from his eyes as he climbed out of bed, mulling over what he thought he had heard. Scratching at the coarse hair at the bottom of his belly, Lance hummed to himself. He was so sure that the voice had told him to come home. But he _was_ home, wasn't he? The wild beat of his half healed heart told him otherwise; he elected to ignore it.

 

Throwing open his wardrobe, Lance chucked on the first shirt he came across, tugging on the closest pair of shorts too. Something caused him to pause, one foot in a pant leg, the other in mid air. Out of the corner of his eye, he had seen a flash of yellow and green. Slowly, he pulled his shorts up his legs to his waist, eyes never wavering from the end of his wardrobe. With a frown, he fastened the button and unhurriedly zipped his fly. He took a step towards the thing he was staring at, reaching a hand out to see if it was real, and gasped as his fingertips brushed against rough fabric.

 

It was a surprise that his jacket didn’t tear; he’d pulled it from the hanger that fast. He threw his arms through the sleeves, patting down the front, savouring the feeling of being whole. Lance took a deep breath as he shoved his nose into the collar, smiling to himself as breathed in all the mingled scents it held. His brain wasn’t full of flies for once, choosing now to be clear, but still defiantly silent. Lance didn’t care though, by some miracle, he had his jacket back; no matter how confusing it was, he was happy.

 

He made the slow descent down the stairs, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets as he beamed at his triumphant find. The fingers of his left hand bumped against something, tucked right into the corner of the pocket, pressed into the seam. Lance paused mid-step, pulling the small folded piece of paper from his pocket. His fingers trembled as he unfolded it, his breath rattling out of him as his eyes roved over the chicken scratch handwriting. The words echoed the voice from last nights dream, and Lance’s eyes blurred as they began to water, horrible sobs wracking his body, breaking his heart all over again.

 

 

 

 

 

[ _I love you, I miss you, I’m sorry_ ]


	6. Chapter 6

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He took his time on his way back to the castle, Red a solid purr beneath him all the while. It still hurt, underneath it all, his heart still unsteadily beat in its scarred halves, but it was more bearable at least.

 

Keith committed Lance’s smile to memory, his scent, his touch… They were forever ingrained into Keith’s skin. And no one could ever take that away from him. Only the sweet release of death; but he had to stay alive, for Lance.

 

He knew that Allura would be displeased with him; they weren’t supposed to interfere with Lance, merely observe. Keith didn’t really mind though, rules had always been more like guidelines to him. So, when Red touched down in the hangar, he was prepared for the wrath he would inevitably face.

 

Allura, Coran and the rest of the paladins were all waiting for him, the air in the hangar alive with restrained rage, although the only one who seemed truly angry was Allura; Pidge looked a little annoyed, their cheeks flushed like they’d just been arguing with someone, but everyone else just looked equal parts fond and relieved. Shiro, especially, looked like a proud father welcoming home his first born. Keith smiled at him, ducking his head as he walked down the gangway.

 

‘This is not a joyous occasion, Keith,’ Allura said before his feet had even hit the hangar floor, ‘that was some stunt you pulled!’

 

‘Allura, you’re honestly making a big deal out of…’ Allura shot Pidge a death glare, silencing them instantly.

 

‘Do you have any idea how much danger you’ve placed Lance in?’ her voice rang, loud as a whip, through the hangar, ‘not only Lance, but the entire population of your _home planet?_ ’

 

Keith could see the crimson anger creep into his vision, but he did his best to tamp it down, making sure his voice was even before he spoke. ‘I understand, princess, I do, but…’

 

‘No buts!’ Allura said, her voice somehow becoming louder as she stepped closer to him, ‘I’m sick to _death_ of your disobedience, Keith! You’re reckless and stupid and care not about the lives of those in this room!’

 

The princess’ face was becoming a deeper shade of red with each passing second. That was the only thing that Keith’s stunned brain could recognise. He knew he was reckless sometimes, could be a little careless when it came to his own life, but he’d never deliberately put his friends, his _family_ , in danger. He did his best to hide his hurt, nodding once to clear the clutter from his mind. ‘I accept any punishment you have for me.’ He said, tone clear and unwavering.

 

Pidge stepped out from behind the princess, placing themselves directly in between her and Keith. ‘You punish him for this, princess, you punish me too.’ They said, eyes blazing as they stared Allura down.

 

Shiro wrapped a hand around Allura’s arm, tugging her gently out of the defensive stance she’d assumed. ‘Allura, please, you’re being a little harsh here.’

 

The princess pulled her arm from Shiro’s grip, looking from Pidge to Keith, eyes ablaze with dominance. Her shoulders rose and fell with the weight of her forced breathing. ‘No punishment, but if you do something like this again, I’m leaving you on the nearest uninhabited planet.’ She turned on her heel, storming out. Shiro gave Keith a grin before he scurried after her, clearly more than proud at his endeavours despite the trouble they had caused.

 

Keith had to hold Pidge back when they lunged at the princess’ retreating form. ‘Easy there, Pidge. Let it go,’ he said, patting them on the shoulder, ‘thanks for sticking up for me, but I deserved that.’

 

Pidge shook their head. ‘No, you didn’t, you were just doing what you thought was right. There’s nothing wrong with that,’ they said, sighing deeply, ‘Statistically speaking, the danger you put Earth in by potentially exposing them to a homicidal alien race is only slightly greater than that it’s already in from climate change.’

 

Keith laughed, clapping them on the shoulder as he lead them towards the door, Hunk joining them on the way. ‘What did I miss, guys?’

 

‘Besides us?’ Hunk asked, giving him a cheesy grin.

 

Keith was sure that Allura and Shiro could hear his cackle from wherever they were in the castle.

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Allura had barely calmed down from her conversation with Keith when she found Coran quietly combing his moustache in the control room. She could feel her anger start to simmer bellow the surface again. The entire time she had talked (yelled) at Keith, Coran had been silent. He didn’t back the princess up with useless statistics, or stupid earthling facts; he had remained stoic, quietly observing the exchange.

 

Coran stopped grooming his facial hair upon noticing the princess. Allura knew Coran well, but not as well as Coran knew her; he could tell she was annoyed at him.

 

‘Princess,’ he said calmly, clearing his throat before standing at ease, ‘the castle’s defences are solid, she’s running smoothly, could use a new Balmera crystal for one of the escape pods, and our food rations are becoming low, but other than that…’

 

Allura couldn’t hold it in any longer, the anger boiling over again. ‘ _Coran,_ how are you _alright with all of this_? Keith put an entire _planet_ in danger and you’re taking stock of the castle?’ her mood sobered a little when she caught a glimpse of Coran’s tired smile.

 

He took a deep breath as he fiddled with his comb. ‘I, too, know what it feels like to lose the only person that you would ever love. I lost half of my heart ten thousand years ago, and it still hurts as if it were yesterday. Keith can still at least see him, has the possibility to fix what has happened that caused them to be apart. I wasn’t given that opportunity, so I would like to do everything I can to help Keith with his.’

 

Allura gasped.

 

‘Besides, I miss Lance. He was a humorous one; his jokes were a welcome relief every once and a while.’

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was Cal that found him, half an hour later, the note crumpled in his fingers, his body curled up on the stairs.

 

He sat down next to Lance and talked.

 

Talked about the night that they got the phone call, how their Mama wept and their Papa yelled. How they had gone to the garrison and demanded the truth, had even taken legal action, but they still didn’t get any answers. Not even the media wanted to listen; they didn’t believe the hype about aliens.

 

Cal told Lance about how he’d moved back home from college to help out with the house; their Papa didn’t talk for a few months, and their Mama sometimes spent days in bed. He told Lance about Eddie, how hard she took the news, how she’d disappear every now and again, for days at a time, always searching for her brother.

 

The thing that hurt the most for Lance though, the one that struck the biggest chord, was that Cal had talked, every night, for three years, to the stars, because he knew his little brother was out there somewhere, alone and cold, and it was the only way he could comfort him.

 

Slowly, the static in Lance’s brain quieted. He knew that his family loved him, that they would have missed him, just as he had missed them, but he had no idea how much of a toll his absence had taken on them. If only he could remember where he had been, if he could give them a reason as to why he couldn’t come back to them, to ease their hearts... but he couldn’t. He knew that he must have been doing something really important for him not to come home. Either that or he was in hyper sleep somewhere…

 

The utter lack of an explanation frustrated Lance, but in this moment, it didn’t matter; he was home now.

 

Wiping the damp from his face with his jacket sleeve, Lance gave his brother a watery smile. ‘I’m sorry, Cal,’ he said, pressing on when his brother waved his hand to object, ‘no really, I am. I’ve been walking around like nothing ever happened because I can’t _remember_ what actually happened. But I didn’t even think about how hard it would’ve been for you guys. I am, I’m really sorry.’

 

Cal sighed, smiling back at his brother. He pulled Lance into a crushing hug, holding him flush to his chest. ‘I know you’re still adjusting Lance. I don’t know what its like to wake up in your bed three years after disappearing off the face of the earth, but I can understand the heart ache you’re going through. Not remembering anything would suck, like, _really_ bad. But don’t stress, no ones angry at you; we’re all relieved to have you home.’ he pulled back, patting Lance on the cheek, ‘just don’t go doing it again.’

 

They both laughed then, hugging once more before finally descending the stairs to start their days.

 

 

Lance kept the note in his pocket for safe keeping. He wore his jacket all day, not bothered by the fact that it was still hot out and he was sweating up a storm; it was a small comfort to him. When his brain began to wobble and the static set in, he would stick his hand in his pocket and run his thumb over the corner of the paper and his heart would instantly calm. It gave him hope that he would one day remember what it was that he was missing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

The nightmares had eased somewhat in the few months it had been since seeing Lance, but tonight was a particularly bad night, and Keith was too exhausted to train.

 

He wandered the halls of the castle, listlessly floating from wing to wing. Eventually, he settled into the lounge in the common room and flicked on the TV, watching this month’s check-up video. Keith smiled as he watched Lance training at the park with his older brother. They were hanging off the monkey bars, having a competition to see how many chin ups they could do in a minute, and Lance was cheating something shocking. It took Cal a while to realise, but when he did, he tugged Lance off the bars and began chasing him down the street, both of them laughing carelessly, dodging cars and pedestrians. They even got chased by a stray dog for a while. Keith’s heart did little flippies, happy for Lance, his silly, dopey, _beautiful_ Lance.

 

 

Allura wandered in few hours before the ships artificial sunrise, a dressing gown hanging from her shoulders and fluffy mice slippers on her feet. She smiled sheepishly at Keith, tucking the fabric of her dressing gown securely around her waist. ‘Mind if I join you?’

 

Keith motioned to the space next to him, shuffling further into the corner of the lounge. ‘Not at all.’

 

He wasn’t sure what to do now, if he should talk first or not, or if he should just go back to bed. He hadn’t had much to do with the princess since he had gotten back, preferring to keep his distance and follow orders religiously. He’d kept himself out of trouble, but they still hadn’t resolved their differences.

 

The princess let out a weary sigh. ‘I’m sorry, Keith,’ she said, looking him in the eyes as she spoke, ‘perhaps I have been too hard on you. I had forgotten how strong a Galra mate bond can be,’ she broke eye contact then, studying the stitching on the hem of her sleeve, ‘to be perfectly honest with you, I’d forgotten how painful heart break could be.’

 

Keith shuffled in his seat, uncomfortable at the seriousness of the conversation. Despite himself, he smiled. ‘I’m sorry too. I broke your rule instead of just asking you…’

 

‘No Keith, you didn’t need my _permission,_ ’ Allura interjected, turning her body to face him, ‘you weren’t the one to blame here. I haven’t been very supportive of you. It’s been more than a year since…’ she trailed off, hiccuping slightly before she picked up again, ‘I haven’t been there for you of late. I, of all people, know what you’re going through and I didn’t think to talk to you about it.’

 

Placing his hand atop hers, Keith let out a noisy breath. ‘Allura, please, it’s fine. It’s not like you haven’t had more important things to worry about.’

 

Allura turned her hand over, her long fingers gripping Keith’s tightly. ‘ _You_ are important, Keith. For everything, I am sorry.’

 

Reserved, Keith hid behind his messy hair. He huffed out a laugh before squeezing the princess’ hand. ‘For everything, I thank you,’ he said, smiling unabashed at Allura. They laughed together, sat on the couch, hand in hand, an Altean princess and a human-Galra hybrid. Keith’s heart flipped again, the scars blazing as they healed further. Slowly, he would mend.

 

Allura patted their joined hands, smiling mischievously. ‘Now, would you like to know more about Galra mate bonds?’

 

Keith laughed again, smiling even brighter as he nodded his head.

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

It was orientation at day the garrison. Lance wiped his palms on his denim clad thighs; this place always made him extremely nervous, no matter how close to graduating he got. He was enrolled for one semester, just to see if he was still skilled enough to be a cargo pilot, to see if he still had the feel for it. It was his parent’s idea; they had handed him the confirmation of his enrolment one night after dinner. Lance didn’t want them to know that he was scared to go back; his Mama looked so excited for him to fulfil his dreams, his Papa so proud to know that his son would be the first McClain in space; he couldn’t break their hearts, not again.

 

Sitting in the great hall with all the other enrolees, Lance did his best not to puke. He was somewhat of a celebrity in this place, and he hated it. He could hear the hushed whispers, see all the eyes watching him, wondering, just as he did, where he had gone missing to. All the while, the little voice in his head called for him. It told him that he was better than this place, that there were more important things he should be doing. For the millionth time, he tuned it out, thankful that the garrison headmaster had taken to the stage to start the presentation.

 

 

 

As soon as the orientation presentation was over, Lance began to wander down halls that he vaguely remembered. What he didn’t remember, though, was the monument to the missing. He stared in vacant awe at the four towering portraits on the wall. There was an empty space where he knew his photograph once hung, the paint a little less dull in one rectangular patch. Staring at the faces, he only recognised one; the first portrait that was hanging, it was Hunk’s. He couldn’t help the whimper that escaped him; he missed his big best friend.

 

The next two faces didn’t seem familiar at all: a stocky, beaming boy with dark hair and a hopeful smile and a small, bird-like boy hidden behind large framed glasses. They were strangers to Lance, which gave him mixed emotions. For some reason, he felt as if he _should_ have known them, but if he was being honest with himself, he didn’t know them from Adam.

 

The last portrait, however, made him take pause. There was something in the face, the hollowness of the cheeks, the pale, purple sheen to his skin, the bright eyes hiding behind a stark black fringe. Lance had seen this face, a little older, a little fuller, and worldlier. He had seen those eyes, framed by longer hair, not even a month earlier. There was no way to be sure, but he knew this boy. Even if his brain told him _no, he is a stranger to you,_ he knew not to believe his treacherous mind. He had to have known him; otherwise his heart wouldn’t be beating like it was, his hands wouldn’t be tingling with the phantom feeling of a touch. His body was trying to tell him something, and Lance chose to trust it over his broken brain.

 

Later that day, he’d asked around about the boy with the bright eyes and raven hair, but had found out very little. No one wanted to talk about it; apparently no one knew him, or they didn’t want to tell Lance if they did.

 

Frustrated was starting to become Lance’s permanent state.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> yes just generally an overall sorry being really.
> 
> nb: i called pidge a boy in this chapter because lance can't remember them to know the truth, so please don't eat me for that!
> 
> thanks for reading! and for the kudos!! 
> 
> do not fear friends; we are finally getting somewhere!


	7. Chapter 7

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Keith was relieved that Lance had gone back to the garrison. He had too much talent to be wasting it as a waiter in a coffee shop. He was a damn good waiter, but there was more for him out there, waiting for him amongst the satellites of a foreign galaxy.

 

It was odd, knowing that Lance had so much potential, but also knowing that Lance couldn’t remember that he had the capacity to begin with. He hoped, desperately, that he hadn’t forgotten all the skills he had gained whilst serving as a paladin; he knew he wouldn’t remember being a paladin, but he hoped that he was still an amazing pilot (which he was, dah). Of course, going back to earth space tech was going to be somewhat of a downgrade for Lance, but Keith knew he’d be fine.

 

When it came down to it, no matter how cocky and exuberant Lance was, he actually was quite a natural when it came to flying. Keith just hoped that Commander Iverson wasn’t too hard on him; he really hated that guy. The whole time that Keith was enrolled at the garrison, they had butted heads. Iverson had been half the reason as to why Keith got kicked out.

 

(the other half was the fact that Keith was stealing parts from the engineering bay for his own personal hovercraft, but who needed to know that?)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It wasn’t all that hard to settle back into the routine of the garrison.

 

He’d been given a single room, which worked just fine for Lance; most of the kids were younger than him, anyway, and extremely obnoxious. Besides, having a room to himself meant that he could set it up the way he wanted. No one would tease him about his space posters, or ask him questions about the people in his photos. And, if Lance was being completely honest with himself, he was worried that he would forget what little he remembered of the only roommate that he could remember ever having.

 

Hunk had been the best roommate; he let Lance decorate however he wanted, and he always shared his secret stash of m&m’s. When Lance was sad, or had woken in the middle of the night from a bad dream, Hunk had always been there to comfort him. He gave the best hugs; he even had different hugs for different occasions. And Hunk had always been happy to go along with all of Lance’s reckless, harebrained ideas (even if he always grumbled about it).

 

They’d been best friends from the get go; Lance really missed him. He hoped that, one day, he would remember what happened, his memories would come back to him, and he could rescue Lance from whatever black hole or gigantic rift in time he had fallen into. He knew it was virtually impossible, but hope was the only thing he had these days.

 

On a daily basis, he would meditate, sitting precariously cross-legged on a chair. If someone had told Lance four years ago that he would sit, every morning before breakfast, and meditate, he would have laughed in their face and wished them a good day, kind sir. But it was something he made sure to find time for since moving back to the garrison; it helped to steady his harried mind, kept the static from creeping in and the voice from haunting him while he slept. It didn’t help with the memory loss, but that was to be expected. It’d been eighteen months since his miraculous return, and his brain still sputtered to a stop when he tried to think about the time that he was missing. It was almost as if it had labelled the memories as classified and Lance didn’t have clearance to access them. The steady thrum of underlying frustration was something that he had very much become accustomed to.

 

He had, however, found salvation in the note. The tiny, torn, crumpled note, written by the hand of a mysterious stranger. He’d pinned it to the small mirror in his room. It had become his lifeline, something he often found himself admiring. The unfamiliar hand writing, with its loops and lazy falls, became somewhat of a comfort to him. If he stared at it for long enough, the voice would come to him, laugh sweetly in his ear, and tell him to _leave me alone, your penmanship isn’t much better._ It was a bazaar titbit from the far regions of no-mans land in his mind, but it was better than nothing.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

He had more and more dreams these days, vivid and beautiful.

 

Mostly, they were of Lance. Usually, it was them lying together in the blue grass of a strange planet, sharing kisses that tasted of moonlight, Lance laughing, uninhibited. It was always a happy dream. In Keith’s subconscious, they were together, happy, living out their lives saving the universe. He couldn’t help the melancholy that would inevitably sink in upon waking; Keith found himself taking more naps, trying to chase the sweet taste of moonlight on his lover’s lips, trying, for just another second, to hear that delectable laugh, swim in those cerulean eyes. He knew it was unhealthy, but he had to try.

 

It wasn’t always Lance that visited his subconscious, however. One particular night caught him off-guard. He knew he had been asleep for a while, but it felt as if he were wide awake, the stark brightness of his dreamscape confusing his senses. He was sitting on his bed in the shack, his father across from him, and a beautiful, tall woman beside him, her skin a dark aubergine, her smile bright and non-threatening, in spite of the sharpness of her teeth.

 

Keith knew that she was his mother.

 

She began talking, he voice soft and silky. She told him of how she had defected from Zarkon’s army, and how the Blade of Marmora took her in. On one of the missions she had been sent on, she had become stranded on Earth. Her ship was damaged, her communication system lost. Keith’s father had found her, helped her, found parts for her ship, and slowly got her closer to going home.

 

They didn’t mean to fall in love. They didn’t intend on bringing a child into the world. But they had. She had given birth to a half human-half Galra, beautiful baby boy. She had spent as much time as she could, caring for her son, watching him grow at an alarming rate. But she knew that word of her presence on Earth would soon spread, and that Zarkon’s army would follow.

 

When her ship was fixed, she knew she had to leave, to keep Keith’s father safe, to protect their son.

 

His mother apologised for abandoning him, for never allowing his father to tell him his true heritage. It was too dangerous for him to know. He had to stay safe; he was the only one of his kind, unique in every way. His mother knew that Zarkon, had he ever found Keith, would exploit him however he could.

 

Keith could feel the waters of unconsciousness draining, could feel his head coming up for air as he drifted to the surface of lucidity. Just as he was about to open his eyes, his mother grabbed his hand, pulling him back in.

 

 ‘Do not worry yourself, my son,’ she said, offering Keith a firm smile, gripping his hand tightly, ‘I know your heart is hurting now, but he will come back to you. He always will.’

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lance was bored.

 

He’d been at the garrison for two months now and he’d already broken every flying record ever made there. He was set to graduate in a couple of weeks, and he wasn’t even excited about it. Classes were boring, the aircraft he flew were boring, the space craft even more so. He couldn’t even talk to them through a psychological connection. What’s the point in flying an expensive spaceship if you couldn’t even bond with it? He shook his head, not quite sure as to why that thought, no matter how valid it was, had occurred to him.

 

He was supposed to be in his last class for the day, but instead, he was in his room, staring at the stark lettering of the note on his mirror. Lance was compelled to go outside, beyond the garrison grounds. Something, in the hind part of his brain maybe, was tugging him, like a string tied around his middle; he just wasn’t sure who it was that was holding the other end. But curiosity, as always, got the better of him.

 

Slipping past the guards was a breeze, the arid red dirt of the desert a beautiful sight after staring at the sterile white garrison walls. Once he was outside, he let his feet take him wherever they desired, and, as if they had a mind of their own, he walked.

 

And walked.

 

And walked.

 

After taking many steps, he passed a small shack, peering inside to see it immaculate, but abandoned. The strange feeling of empty recognition struck him again, his head throbbing as his brain slowly gave up some information. He’d been here before, a few years ago, with someone else. A small crack had formed in the dam wall blocking his memories and a small stream began to trickle from it. Looking around, Lance slowly began to recognise his surroundings, letting his feet take the lead once more. The sun beat down on him, its heat keeping him grounded while his brain began to scramble.

 

The stream stopped flowing after a while, the breach in the wall plugged, and he shook his head, letting his eyes adjust. Lance had wandered into a small cave without his conscious thought even knowing. Frustrated and exhausted, Lance lent his back against the cave wall, sliding down until he was sat in the dirt. There was absolutely nothing here, so why did he feel like he’d been here before? It didn’t make any sense, but nothing in his life, of late, did.

 

Lance closed his eyes and lent his head back against the cave wall. He was just about decided on making the trip back to the garrison when the ground began to shake, the floor of the cave crumbling as it swallowed him whole.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i thought i could finish this fic and update all of it in a reasonable amount of time, but it turns out that i'm a terrible human being and am incapable of managing my time enough to actually write at decent hours of the day?
> 
> haha. who would've guessed? 
> 
> anyway, another short chapter, i'm afraid. i'm probably a few more late nights away from ending this torture, so hopefully the next (and possibly the final) chapter will be up in a couple of days, but don't hold me to that :P
> 
>  
> 
> as always, i am infinitely sorry, for absolutely everything! i promise you, i'll stop causing these boys pain soon.
> 
> thank you so much for the kudos and comments!!
> 
> happy (haha, i'm hilarious) reading :)

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Keith woke with a start.

 

Pidge had opened his door using the emergency unlock code. They were standing in his doorway, chest heaving with exhaustion, looking heavenly, backlit by the hall light. Taking a step into the room, they opened their mouth to speak, but not a noise came out. Seconds later, they turned on their heel and stormed out. Keith flung off the covers, standing to follow them. He watched as Hunk ran past his door, Coran hot on his heels, Allura calling for them both from somewhere in the castle.

 

Keith, still shirtless and in his pyjama bottoms, took a step into the hallway, the castle floor chilly under his bare feet. He almost jumped out of his skin when someone grabbed him from behind, but he relaxed when he felt the cool metal of a robotic hand. Shiro whirled around to stand before Keith, gripping him by the shoulders and beaming from ear to ear.

 

'He found her,’ he said, lightly shaking Keith where he stood, still processing what Shiro just said. Shiro shook him again, letting out a bark of laughter, ‘Keith, he found blue.'

 

Blinking sleep from his eyes, Keith produced a smile almost twice as wide as Shiro’s. He grabbed Shiro’s arm, laughing with him as they both made their way to the control room with the others. Keith knew he shouldn’t get his hopes up; just because Lance had found Blue and was flying her back to them didn’t mean he had remembered who they were, who he was. But somehow, despite it all, Keith knew that his baby was coming home.

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

Lance wasn't exactly sure how to fly the hulking robotic blue lion he found, but something told him his body did. He wasn’t even slightly freaked out by it, its sheer enormity, its grand beauty, and that was the weirdest part.

 

But the lion made him feel welcome; it seemed to come to life the second his body passed the force field surrounding it, lowering its opening hatch. It had purred with delight the moment he had stepped foot on the gangway, its engines warming all around Lance. After a rocky lift off, Lance got the robot balanced and began shooting off.

 

Flying her felt like second nature; he sighed at the feeling of adrenaline flowing through his veins. He didn’t feel like he was going to fall asleep at the controls of this beautiful space craft, didn’t have any intentions of crashing it on purpose, and he actually felt glee when it flew faster than he expected, not held back by lack of technology and fuel. Needless to say, Lance was no longer bored.

 

He didn’t exactly know where he was going, but the lion seemed to know the path that he had to take, so he let it take over the controls as he kicked back and relaxed. He had a minor freak out about his family, but the prospect of remembering what had happened to him was far more exciting.

 

There was a tickling sensation in the back of his mind, almost like a hammer and drill, banging at the wall in his brain. The lion, _Blue_ , was talking to him through a psychological link, helping his damaged limbic system. It was unlocking all the doors that Lance didn’t even know existed, telling him not to be afraid, to breathe, to remember his purpose.

 

He still only got small flashes of memory, popping up randomly behind his eyelids. Mostly of a gorgeous boy with devouring lilac eyes, smiling, laughing, staring at him like Lance was the sun and he’d been standing under a cloud for years. It made Lance’s insides explode with butterflies.

 

More and more memories came back. Just flashes, still frustratingly half formed. But there was a name. A name more important to him than anything in the entire universe. A name, and the beautiful boy that it belonged to. His soul mate.

 

_Keith._

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Keith tapped his foot nervously as he stood in the castles control room, watching as the blinking light of Blues tracking beacon came closer and closer.

 

He couldn’t help but recall the accident. Lance’s face, distraught and full of pain, was burned into his retinas. Keith wasn’t fast enough to save him, he wasn’t strong enough to hold his ground, and Lance had sacrificed himself to keep him alive.

 

They were fighting a small Galra fleet that irritatingly turned out to be a decoy. A nearby planet let out a distress signal which the paladins had responded to, leaving Coran and the princess with the castle. Little did they know that the signal had come from the Galra themselves, and that Haggar had had drawn out the paladins to try and take the princess, and the castle.

 

By the time they had figured out that they had been tricked, they had already destroyed the small fleet, thanks to Voltron. Haggar, however, was stronger than they had anticipated. She used her power to overcome Voltron’s bond, throwing the lions into disarray; it had given her enough time to get onboard the castle.

 

She was waiting for them in the hanger, which, in hindsight, was a good thing; Coran had barricaded himself and Allura in the control room, blocking the airlock from closing and stopping Haggar from gaining entry to the ship. Shiro had left his lion, preferring to fight by hand in close combat situations. Keith and Lance had also docked, leaving their lions to help fight, while Pidge and Hunk orbited the castle, keeping watch for any more Galra fleets.

 

Shiro did well to keep Haggar engaged; they danced around each other, both predators, stalking their only threat. Lance and Keith did their best to get in blows where they could, watching, anticipating, striking, all the while trying not to get sucked out into space.

 

Inevitably, Shiro grew tired, the mental anguish getting the best of him as Haggar got into his head. She had managed to knock Shiro to his knees, preparing for another attack, and Keith could see that he wouldn’t have enough time deflect the incoming blast. He dove for Shiro, trying to aim his bayard to repel the attack, but Lance was faster.

 

Lance used their momentum to knock Shiro clean out of the way; he used his body as a human shield, covering Keith. Lance had saved both Shiro and Keith, but had taken the full blast of energy. It hit him square in the back, and all Keith could do was watch; he was a passenger to Lance’s pain, helpless.

 

The thing about bleeding in zero gravity was that the blood had nowhere to pool; it floated around them in little droplets; Keith could still feel them hitting his suit, soaking into the fabric and staining his skin. The smell of charred flesh, _Lance’s flesh,_ still crept, unwanted, into Keith’s nose. The impact of the flare had not only torn a whole in Lance’s body, but it had pushed them both so hard that they smacked their heads into Blue’s flank. The force was enough to crack Lance’s helmet, and it took Keith too long to shake the fuzziness from his brain to realise.

 

Lance had gone without oxygen for three minutes; not long enough to kill him, but long enough to cause damage. That, factored into the time it took for Keith to replace Lance’s damaged helmet with his own; it was no wonder that Lance’s brain chose to forget him.

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The lions all perked up moments before Lance docked.

 

He was nervous, to say the least.

 

He took his time, making sure to breathe as he walked down the gangway. They were waiting for him, all conveying different emotions, but all of them overwhelmingly happy.

 

Lance smiled.

 

He knew their names. He beamed at Coran and the princess, nodded in reverence at Shiro, stuck out his tongue at Pidge, and opened his arms wide for Hunk, who ran straight past him, galloping over to Blue and hugging her on the leg. Lance watched as his big best friend kissed the metal of his lions paw, chuckling to himself. He turned back to catch a glimpse of the only one left.

 

Slim shoulders, pale skin, dark hair, impossible lilac eyes. Lance’s heart throbbed; he’d found the owner of the voice that had been haunting him for nearly two years. Keith gave him a shy smile as Lance took a step towards him. He smiled back, weary all of a sudden, overwhelmed by the journey he had just taken.

 

Lance knew he loved him, this beautiful, impossible boy, with all his heart and then some. But he couldn’t remember if the feeling was mutual. He didn’t know if these half formed memories of them holding hands, kissing in the rain, chasing each other in the upside down castle swimming pool, were actual memories, or just Lance’s fantasies, born out of his sheer adoration for the boy in front of him.

 

There was only one way to find out…

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

He could see the cogs turning in Lance’s brain.  Now was the pivotal moment; his other half was standing before him, but Keith still didn’t know if Lance could remember him or not.

 

He couldn’t speak; his brain was a garbled mess of nonsense, his hands were sweaty, his heart was full of spiders and flies and a whole manner of other creepy crawlies.

 

Keith was standing here, gazing at the other half of his soul, the only person that could fix his haphazard, rag tag heart, and he couldn’t say a word, couldn’t _move._ He was trapped by the stare of those cerulean irises, the intensity they held, the love he felt for them and the entity that they belonged to.

 

Lance cleared his throat and Keith had to do his best not to startle (or at least show that he did). Keith waited for Lance to speak first, to ask questions, to confess his love.

 

It had to be Lance who talked first, because there was no way that Keith would unfairly influence Lance’s memory of them. Lance had to remember them as they were and not how Keith told him to; Lance was too special, too kind. Keith couldn’t control him like that.

 

Lance took another step towards Keith, wringing his hands as he smiled at him. ‘ _Keith,’_

 

A single word, spoken from his lover’s lips, and Keith’s entire body was on fire. Lance knew his _name._ Keith gave up on decorum; his hopes were soaring sky high.

 

‘I don’t remember everything but,’ Lance looked at his shoes, a crinkle forming between his eyes. Keith wanted to reach out and smooth it, but he forced his hands to remain still, waiting for Lance to continue.  ‘I do… I do remember _things_ … we were-we… we were rivals, right? Turned friends? Be-best friends… is that… that’s what we are to each other, right?’ Lance looked up, his eyes meeting Keith’s. His face gave off so much confusion, so much uncertainty, yet there was hope there too, like he was relieved that he finally remembered, and that this was a memory that gave him substance, anchorage.

 

Keith couldn’t manipulate him; he wouldn’t force himself on Lance. Couldn’t. Holding in the pain that he felt, Keith slowly nodded his head. It may never be like it was before, but at least he had Lance back now.

 

 ‘Yeah,’ he said, smiling sweetly to mask the heartache, ‘best friends is about right.’


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *manic laughter* i did it.
> 
> thank you so much for sticking through this crazy journey with me. i hope this ending is satisfactory :')  
> this fic started out as a tiny little thing, barely a couple thousand words long, and look at it now!
> 
> anyway, thank you, as always, for the kudos and comments! i'm so grateful that you've all taken the time to read this!
> 
> i hope you enjoy :) <3

 

 

 

 

 

Pidge couldn’t understand it.

 

 

Lance was back. Sure, at times, he forgot that he was in space, kicking ass and taking names. And yes, sometimes he’d randomly lose his shoes (they often showed up in Keith’s room). Of course, he also thought that he and Keith weren’t actually a _thing,_ but instead of Keith telling him that, in actual fact, they very much were a _thing,_ he let Lance continue thinking that they were just really close friends?

 

Pidge didn’t understand at all…

 

It was like watching a train wreck. When Lance was off socialising with Hunk, Keith would come down to the hangar and mope at them, silently brooding and casually breaking things. If Lance ever came down to talk to Pidge, Keith would either leave or actively ignore him. Honestly, it was worse than when Lance was back on Earth. It was, in fact, more terrible than before they had first gotten together.

 

When they were around each other, they were awkward; Keith never made eye contact and Lance made way to many references to Keith’s mullet. Lance joked with everyone about flirting with aliens, even did on one occasion, and couldn’t work out why Keith had set a meteorite on fire with Red’s flame thrower. Keith once, in a Freudian slip, called Lance ‘babe’, and Lance blushed a deeper red than Keith’s lion; Pidge actually thought that he might implode. They were literally living in the same goddamn spaceship castle, they both remembered one another, and they acted like it didn’t matter? It was beyond strange.

 

 

 

Pidge trapped Keith in the gym one night, backing him into a corner so he couldn’t escape. ‘You are literally the dumbest alien I have ever met, Keith, and trust me; I’ve met some pretty dumb aliens. We’ve been in space for _four years_ , Keith. _Four years._ And you’re the dumbest. Just think about that.’

 

Keith gave them the blandest look, obviously already knowing what Pidge was talking about. ‘We came to a mutual agreement _as a team_ to give Lance time to remember things on his own, Pidge. I’m just following an order, that doesn’t make me dumb.’

 

Pidge let out an exasperated groan, throwing their hands in the air and Keith continued to watch them with an insipid expression. ‘Keith, he’s back. In the castle. Lance is _here,_ and he obviously still loves you. Please, for the love of the universe, end all of our misery and tell him the truth!’

 

‘I’m not lying to him; I’m just omitting certain details.’ Keith retorted, adjusting the Velcro on his gloves, ‘It’s working out fine.’

 

Pidge rolled their eyes; the both of them new that the situation was anything but _fine._

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Lance settled back into life in the castle faster than he had settled in at the garrison. It was no surprise, really; he loved the castle and all the people in it. The garrison? Not so much. He tried not to be too disappointed by the fact that he and Keith weren’t _thing_ ; thank god he didn’t embarrass himself in the few minutes after his arrival by blurting out ‘ _are we dating?’_. Still, Lance missed touches that he had never experienced, craved kisses that were never his to crave. (evidently, the confusion would never leave him).

 

When he first got back, he was missing a lot of his stuff from his room, which Lance found odd, but he chose to ignore it. What he couldn’t ignore, however, was the fact that his stuff would randomly show up back where it was supposed to be. By the time a couple of weeks had passed, he had all his possessions, safe and sound, in their rightful place in his room. It was Hunk who had confessed to returning them; he had told Lance that everyone had taken bits and pieces from his room as keepsakes, little pieces of Lance to remember him by when they missed him. Lance didn’t know whether to feel flattered or creeped out. (he stuck with flattered)

 

Allura had let him send a message to his family, just to let them know that he was safe, alive, and would return as soon as he could. It still stung, knowing that he had abandoned them again, especially after his conversation with Cal. But he knew that they would understand, that they would be proud in knowing that their son was saving the universe.

 

It didn’t take him long to get used to artificial gravity again, thanks to his muscle-memory. The chores weren’t too bad, either; they were certainly a lot easier than what his Mama made him do. And not having to baby sit two toddlers, as much as he loved them, was probably the highlight of being on the ship (besides getting to fly Blue, of course). There was only one thing about the castle that unsettled him; Keith avoided him like the plague.

 

So it was how he had suspected, then.

 

Lance kept his fantasies and feelings to himself. He didn’t dare discuss them with anyone; news travelled pretty fast when you only interacted with the same six people on a daily basis.

 

Lance pined for the mullet from afar and tried his best not to be crestfallen at the fact that, even though he had most of his memories, he still had a gaping hole in his heart.

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

Keith owed Hunk.

 

He owed Hunk a million times over. It wasn’t the first time Hunk had covered for him, but it was definitely the most important.

 

Keith and Lance had been sharing a room for god knows how long, so when Lance came back, not fully remembering everything, Keith had no idea how to explain why all his belongings weren’t in his room where he thought they should’ve been. He’d been steadily returning bits and pieces, like Lance’s face masks and fluffy towels, over the past few weeks, stacking them on the shelves in Lance’s room. Stupidly, Keith had thought that Lance wouldn’t notice, but of course he had.

 

Luckily, Hunk was awesome.

 

His room looked empty without Lance’s things. At least Keith still had the photographs; a stack of space Polaroids (Lance had managed to find an alien tech camera in one of the many space malls they visited and given it to Keith as an anniversary present) of them, of all of their adventures. Most of them were photos that Keith had taken of Lance, usually when Lance wasn’t looking. Really aesthetic photos, of Lance watching a sunset, or smelling flowers, or smiling at Blue as they mentally shared jokes. There were a few photos of them together; some Hunk and Allura had taken of them, both candids and set photos. Lance always insisted on taking selfies together, using his long arms to get the perfect angle and lighting. These photos were Keith’s favourites.

 

He was sitting in his room one evening, flicking through the pile of images, when Hunk knocked on his door. Keith was half way through thanking him when he shoved a hand over his mouth.

 

‘You have to tell Lance, dude. Like, right the shit now.’

 

It didn’t take Keith’s partially panicked brain to catch up. He rolled his eyes, pulling Hunk’s hand away from his smooshed face.

 

‘Not happening,’ he said. Hunk opened his mouth to rebut, but Keith didn’t give him a chance, ‘ _end_ of story.’

 

Hunk made a noise of dispute, gesturing to the photos Keith had abandoned on his bed. ‘You’re _miserable_ man. Both of you are. Lance walks around like someone kicked his puppy, and _you._ You act like he doesn’t even exist.’

 

Keith flopped down on his mattress, the photos sliding down his doona. ‘It’s better this way.’ He said, voice low.

 

Hunk looked at him like he was the dumbest person alive (Keith was starting to believe he was). ‘Better that you’re both miserable, pining for each other, when you’ve already _been there_ ,’ he sighed, flopping down next to Keith, ‘it’s not like you don’t have proof of your relationship dude. We all think it’ll be better if you just tell him.’

 

Keith ran his fingers through his hair, pulling it back from his face. His brain was buzzing, fuzzy at the edges. He let out an exasperated breath. ‘I don’t want to take _advantage_ of him, Hunk. I can’t. Not after all that he’s been through.’

 

Hunk patted him on the leg. ‘It’s not taking advantage if both parties are willing, Keith,’ he said. When Keith gave him a befuddled look, he chuckled; it took a while for him to settle down again so that he could speak. ‘Ah, Keith, you have much to learn, young padawan.’

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Heres the thing; since getting back, he had had an extremely _vivid_ recurring dream about Keith. At first, Lance just thought it was his body reacting to remembering things, reacting to the knowledge that Keith and Lance were just friends, nothing more. But now… now he had suspicions.

 

In his dream, holding Keith, touching Keith, hearing Keith’s voice in his ear, _kissing_ Keith. It all felt so real. _Too_ real.

 

Tonight, however, was different. Lance had woken in a cold sweat, the voice, soft and deep, still ringing in his ears.

 

_I love you, I miss you, I’m sorry._

 

Lance definitely hadn’t conjured that one up… he couldn’t have. He had the evidence _._ It certainly wasn’t Hunk that had written that note, definitely wasn’t Pidge, Shiro was with Allura, and as much as Lance loved Coran, he knew it wasn’t him either.

 

Annoyed and unable to get back to sleep, Lance threw back his covers and shoved his feet into his slippers. He was in a place to find answers now, so answers he would get.

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Keith, yet again, couldn’t sleep. The fact that he had Lance back, in touching distance, but still couldn’t touch him, was driving him _mad_. He hadn’t quite tortured himself enough today, so he loaded up the hardest training sequence he could and got to work destroying the droid that the castle spat out at him.

 

It took three rounds before he even broke out into a sweat. Seven rounds and his muscles had only just begun to show the early signs of fatigue. Keith instructed the program to keep running until he told it to stop. It was going to be a long night…

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Breaking into Keith’s room was a piece of cake. The problem was, however, that Lance had absolutely no idea what he was looking for.

 

He needed _proof._ Proof that he wasn’t crazy, wasn’t delusional, full of fantastical notions and heartbroken by love and lust and all things in between.

 

Lance walked over to Keith’s neat desk, reefing open one of the draws. He shuffled a few pieces of paper, pulling them out, careful not to crumple them. They contained paragraph after paragraph of information about the Mothman; theories, accounts, diagrams even. Letting out a sharp bark of crazed laughter, Lance put the papers back on the desk. It took him a while to realise that his hands were shaking, goosebumps prickling his skin.

 

A vision played out in his head: he was sitting on the couch in the common room, Keith in front of him on the floor, his long legs tucked under the coffee table. Lance had his arms wrapped around him and was teasing him, laughing at his wonky handwriting, his chaotic drawings, poking fun at his love for conspiracy theories as he kissed Keith on the ear. Lance shook the fog from his mind, dislodging the tears that had formed in his eyes. He hoped that this wasn’t a just fantasy; the chicken scratch handwriting had to mean something, Keith had to feel something for him, otherwise he wouldn’t have written that note... right?

 

He wiped the tears from his cheeks, neatly piling up the papers to place them back where they belonged. Pulling the drawer out further, something caught Lance’s eye. Tucked into the back corner was a small stack of photographs. He knew he was already invading Keith’s privacy by just being in here, but, as usual, Lance never had any self control when it came to curiosity.

 

Pulling out the small, rigid squares, Lance steeled himself as he began to flip through them. Most of them were of Lance; hipster photos of him lazing in the grass, watching the sun set over the horizon, running through purple rain on a weird yellow planet. Others were of Lance and Keith; a few set-up photos, but mostly candids of them, smiling at each other, walking hand in hand down the castle halls, sleeping, curled up together, on the hanger floor. When Lance flicked to the next photo, his breath stuck to the back of his throat. It took every ounce of his strength to not drop the photographs, to not lose his grip on his consciousness.

 

It was _beautiful_. Tears welled anew in Lance’s eyes as he stared at the picture, following the contours of Keith’s gorgeous face, admiring how his eyes were screwed shut and mouth was open with laughter as Lance’s lips left a delicate kiss on his cheek. Lance gently put down the rest of the stack, lest he drop them all on the floor. The tickling sensation was back in his brain, but this time, it wasn’t Blue unlocking the doors. He could see the key, knew it was nearby; all he had to do was find it.

 

Slowly, Lance turned the photograph over. The tears spilled over, rolling down the dried tracks on his cheeks as he read the small passage on the back. There was a date from a few years back, written in Keith’s distinctive script. Penned in underneath the date, written carefully and with purpose, were three short sentences.

 

 “ _I found love today. Where it wasn’t supposed to be. In a space lion, to be exact.”_

The door in his brain slowly creaked open. Lance remembered _everything:_ the distress call, the Galra, Haggar, the battle, the _pain_. But most importantly, he remembered the person he loved unconditionally, the person he wanted to spend his life with, who he would unerringly give his life for.

 

Fucking. _Keith._

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

Lance burst into the training room, breathing heavily, face flushed and eyes alive with anger.

 

‘You lied to me.’

 

Keith’s brow ruffled. He cancelled the training sequence and turned his back to lance, wiping the sweat from his eyes as he put away his bayard. ‘Lance, its three a-m; you’re sleep-talking.’

 

‘ _No,_ I’m not _sleep-talking,_ you dodo headed _mullet_ ,’ Lance said, his fists clenching tighter at his sides, ‘I’m confronting my boyfriend who _lied to me_ and has continued to do so since I got back.’

 

‘Lance I honestly don- wait… did you just say _boyfriend?_ ’ Keith’s brain switched into overtime, his heart rate tripling as the sweat began to cool on his skin. He couldn’t stop the emotions from scrolling across his face before it settled into a giant grin.

 

Keith began to break down, his broken heart finally giving up the ghost, letting go of the scars and scattering all over the floor. Tears welled in his eyes as he choked on laughter, great cackles that eventually turned to sobs.

 

He was finally, legitimately breaking. But this time, Lance was there to pick up the pieces.

 

Lance took two stretched strides towards him, long legs swallowing up the distance between them easily, and Keith could feel his heart properly start to mend as its other half came closer. Long arms caught him, once again, before his legs gave out. This time, Keith didn’t look away; he didn’t mutter an apology and slip from Lance’s grip. He let Lance lower them both to the ground and let himself drown in his true love’s beautiful, endless, wonderfully _blue_ eyes. He let Lance wipe the tears from his face, wipe the snot from his nose, and kiss him, and kiss him, and kiss him.

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

When their lips touched, it was like catching fire and freezing all at the same time.

 

Lance felt the electricity blasting through every nerve ending in his body. For over a year, he had been wandering around his home planet with a stray voice in his head and a void in his heart that he couldn’t fill. His mind was a traitorous, constant blank, and his family didn’t feel real, didn’t feel like _enough._

 

Now, he understood why.

 

Sitting here, on the cold floor of a castle that was also an alien craft that just so happened to be floating around in space, Lance found his home.

 

It wasn’t a place, it wasn’t a building, wasn’t four walls and a bed. No, his home was two incredible, endless lilac eyes, two beautiful, strong arms, and legs that matched, skin so pale it was almost translucent, tinged purple at the edges, a steady heartbeat, synced in perfect time with his own, and a fucking ridiculous _mullet._

He had found the one thing to soothe the aching hole in his heart. He had found the one person that he wanted to share forever with. And he was lucky enough to have done it for the second time round.

 

Lance smiled when they broke for air, nuzzling into Keith’s palm as he cradled Lance’s face. ‘I love you so freaking much,’ he said, placing a delicate kiss on Keith’s thumbprint, ‘I’m so sorry I forgot you.’

 

Keith shook his head, his brow crinkling again. ‘No I… I should’ve told you, when you came back… when you asked me what we were to each other, I… I should have told you the truth…’

 

Lance cut him off with a kiss, their lips vibrating as Keith tried to continue talking. He pulled back, pressing their foreheads together. ‘ _Quiznack,_ I forgot how good that felt,’ he said, both of them letting out small bubbles of laughter. Lance kissed Keith between the eyes, sighing as he revelled in the feeling of Keith’s hands on his skin. ‘I understand why you didn’t tell me, babe. You didn’t want to influence me, to take advantage of me, no?’

 

Keith hummed his response and Lance shook his head, kissing Keith again. Lance was addicted to this boy; he had no idea how he had survived so long without him, no idea how his brain would be so traitorous as to forget him.

 

‘I understand that, Keith. And I respect that, but _dude,_ if this ever happens again, which it better fucking _not,_ I don’t want you to try to protect me, okay?’ Lance said, ducking his head, forcing Keith to make eye contact with him, ‘I will _always_ come back to you, I promise.’

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

Keith was floating on cloud nine. He still couldn’t believe the turn this night had taken.

 

Lance remembered him. He remembered _them_. And it was the greatest experience of Keith’s life. Every feeling, every emotion, was more potent than it had ever been between them. Distance certainly made the heart grow fonder, and apparently partial amnesia made love seem less like an emotion and more like a lifeline.

 

With his head tucked beneath Lance’s chin, Keith could finally breathe; his heart was free of all the toxic sorrow, his soul finally made whole by the arms that were holding him. He listened to the steady thrum of Lance’s heartbeat, ear pressed to his collarbone, and closed his eyes in contentment. _This_ was Keith’s happy place, this was his home.

 

Lance took a deep breath and shifted Keith where he rested on his chest. Keith could feel the words being formed in Lance’s throat, so distracted by the steady rumble that he forgot to actually listen to what Lance was saying.

 

‘I’m sorry, what?’ he said, pressing himself closer to Lance’s skin.

 

Lance laughed, the sound reverberating off the walls off the gym. Keith smiled.

 

‘I asked if it was you that brought me my jacket,’ he said, squeezing Keith a little tighter, ‘but I mean, I already know the answer.’

 

Keith smiled, always amused by Lance’s certainty. ‘Do you, just.’ He said.

 

Lance hummed. ‘You left a note; I’d recognise that chicken scratch anywhere.’

 

Keith blushed. ‘So you found that then.’

 

Lance leaned back, looking Keith in the face. ‘Of course I did; subtlety is not your forte, Kogane,’ he said, giving Keith a solicitous wink, ‘besides, it’s half the reason why I remembered this. Remembered _us._ ’

 

He kissed Lance then. Because he wanted to. Because he _could_.

 

All the time they had spent apart seemed to melt away and narrow down to this moment. Six weeks ago, Lance was living on Earth, completely unaware that half of his soul was millions of kilometres above him, orbiting his existence. A month ago, Keith was lonely, wondering around with a broken heart, reeling at the loss of a love-filled future.

 

Now, they were together, in each others arms.

 

In this moment, nothing else mattered. They had found their love, once again. They had picked up where they left off. Sure, there were questions that still needed to be answered, but in this moment, all Keith cared about were the arms that were holding him, and the infinite love that he had for the amazing person, the _incredible_ human, that they belonged to.

 

He had found love where it wasn’t supposed to be, and he was never letting it go, ever again.


	10. epilogue.

 

 

 

 

 

With the threat of the Galra significantly diminished, Allura granted them all some time on earth with their families. Hunk had taken Pidge with him, considering that Matt and Mr. Holt were still missing. It was good for Pidge, to know that they had family, regardless of genetic connection. Since Keith had no family to go home to, Lance thought it was about time that he introduced him to his.

 

Lance’s Mama hugged Keith for seven straight minutes. She thanked him for keeping her son safe, for loving him unconditionally, eternally. (she also tried to feed him _way_ too much food, of course she thought Keith was too skinny). Lance watched has his Papa pulled Keith into his arms, smiling as he saw Keith stiffen at the words Lance’s father had spoken in his ear (his Papa’s protectiveness never seemed to astonish Lance). As Lance had predicted, Keith and Eddie got on like a house on fire, and Lance’s youngest sister, niece and nephew all seemed to love Keith more than they loved their Uncle Lance, which, _rude._ His older brother’s both shook Keith’s hand in stony silence, a mutual respect conferring between them (Lance was just glad that they weren’t threatening to beat Keith up. Well… not yet, anyway).

 

He watched as his family all gave Keith the stamp of approval. His swollen heart ached; the most important people to him, minus a few, were all in this room. They were all happy, they were all exuberating love. Lance could never have predicted that this was how his life would turn out, but he didn’t have a single regret, and he would never have any complaints.

 

When it came down to it, Lance had Keith, and that was all he needed.

 

 

 

 

 

 

*             *             *

 

 

 

 

 

 

That morning, they had woken up in the same bed, two halves of the same heart, a tangle of bed sheets and long limbs.

 

Now, they were back in the same bed, Keith squished into the hollow under Lance’s chin, his arm numb from where it was jammed under Lance’s back.

 

Keith had spent the entire day on Earth, with Lance’s family. He had expected stern words and sullen silences. He had expected tears and pleas to stay. What he hadn’t expected was welcoming arms, expressions of gratitude, acceptance into his soul mate’s family. His head was still spinning at just how much Lance’s family loved him, loved the both of them. It was no surprise, really; Lance loved Keith enough to last a lifetime and then some. He had to have learned that from somewhere (of course it was from his family). Keith was contented; grateful that his best friend, his only love, existed.

 

Lance rolled them, pressing Keith onto his back. He looked divine, looming above Keith, the soft light from the stars coming in from the window setting his skin aglow. He kissed the crest of Keith’s cheek, the dip between Keith’s eyes, the bow of Keith’s lips. He lingered there for a while, lazily kissing Keith, the inexorable press of flesh to flesh slowing driving Keith mad. After he was satisfied, he laid his head on Keith’s chest, right above his heart.

 

His breath tickled Keith’s skin as he breathed. ‘I think we should get married.’

 

‘Don’t be ridiculous; you barely remember me.’

 

Lance hummed. ‘True. How the quiznak did I ever forget that mullet?’

 

Keith laughed, unreserved. ‘God only knows.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [tumblr](https://alphathorinrock.tumblr.com/)

**Author's Note:**

> /i'm sorry/
> 
>    
> just really super duper /sorry/
> 
>  
> 
> title inspired by amber run's "i found"


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